


Bright Light Living in the Shade

by IndigoDreaming



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, Psychic Abilities, Slow Burn, dad!even, ghost - Freeform, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:22:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDreaming/pseuds/IndigoDreaming
Summary: Even is a single father of three, just trying to keep everything together. He has to deal with toddlers, work, his parents, and the fact that he has the ability to see ghosts all on his own. One day, Even meets a strange spirit, a type of ghost he has never seen before, and his life will forever be changed.TLDR; Even Bech Næsheim has always been able to see the dead. And well, Isak is dead.**Title change from My Babysitter's a Ghost





	1. Even (A World Alone)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I have no idea what this is right now. But just bear with me for right now.

“Your mother and I,” his father began, looking down at his folded hands, “Think you should move back home with us.”

When Even didn’t offer a response, his father continued, “We could help with the girls. We know how stressed you’ve been lately-”

“I’m not stressed,” Even said, not looking at his father.

Anders shrugged off the obvious lie, “Things have been hard for you, and you needed time to adjust after Sonja, well, uh, and it’s been a year, and I’m worried. We’re both worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Even’s mother interjected, “This is all your father’s idea. I say, what is meant to happen will happen, and I trust you enough that you can take care of your own children.”

“I’m not saying that he can’t take care of them, I’m just offering help,” Anders said, turning his head toward his wife.

“And if he wants it, he can take it,” Line stated, “But he clearly doesn’t. He’s got a job and a house, you know. He could be doing a lot worse. You were doing a lot worse when you were his age.”

“And I wish that I had help available to me,” Anders said, “And you do Even. You don’t have to do this alone.”  
Even tuned out the sound of his parent’s bickering, which would be another argument for another day. He worked his ass off so that he could move out of his parent’s when he was young, and he wasn’t going to move back in there now, showing his kids how much of a failure their father was.  
And sure, he was tired, but weren’t most parents tired, especially single parents? It wasn’t like he was the first person in the world to go through this. He just needed to work harder. But it wasn’t hard work that Anders cared about. Even knew that his father was scared Even was going to slip, go off his medication and do something bad, even though he hadn’t been off of his medication in years. His transparency was showing.  
“Thanks, but as long as I can afford to live with my children alone, I will,” Even said, interrupting his parent’s bickering.

He left a few minutes later, picking up the kids from where they were playing in their grandparent’s living room.  
Before he walked out the door, Aimee in his right arm, his mother grabbed him, “Maybe I can try to call her, if you have any idea where she is. I can explain the situation again, the family history-”  
“She already heard the family history, remember?” Even said, “That’s what drove her off in the first place, you guys telling her the family history, and our children being affected by it.”  
“No, what drove her off was you lying to her for years, and then springing the family secret on her three children later,” Maja, Even’s teenaged sister, was sitting on the stairs. He didn’t even notice she was there.  
“Not now, Maja,” Line said.  
“It’s never the time,” Maja rolled her eyes and walked upstairs.  
Even walked out to the car where his other two daughters were already strapped in. Line followed him.  
“I just think that the children should have their mother around. You and your father have given up on Sonja, but I haven’t. Children need their mother.”  
“Well, she didn’t seem to realize that, did she,” Even strapped in Aimee, who was thankfully fast asleep. “No more talk of you-know-who in front of the girls.”  
“I just feel that her time in our lives is not over just yet,” Line persisted.  
“She seems to feel it was,” he said, ignoring the transparent figure walking up to his mother.  
“Please, please, someone needs to find my son-“The man said, his eyes glistening white, his hair fading into smoke. Even could see through the black blood marks on his shirt to the houses on the other side. This was one of the regulars, one of the one’s that never seemed to go away, never seemed to be able to cross over.  
“Your son’s in Copenhagen with his mother, Fred,” Line said without even looking back at the ghost, “Now if you would like some help with that I’m offering, but if you’re just going to just going to walk around complaining all the time, I would prefer that you get off my lawn.”

Fred the ghost grumbled as he stepped off of Line Bech’s lawn, “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said.  
“I hope not,” she answered.  
Through the car, Annaken could see Fred saunter off, “Who is that, Pappa?”  
“Nobody you need to worry about,” Even said, jumping into the car and driving off.  
Even always remembered being able to see them. He just didn’t know it wasn’t normal to see them.  
His first memory with a ghost is at his second birthday party. His parents are feeding him cake, and he remembered seeing an old man made of smoke yelling at one of the children, who seemed not to notice he was there.  
It wasn’t until he was four, when he got upset when his teacher told him that his friend Cecilie, a little girl with blonde pigtails, wasn’t actually there, that he realized seeing them wasn’t normal.  
His parent’s sat him down on their blue padded couch and wiped tears from his eyes. His mother explained that most people couldn’t see the ghosts, but he could, and Mamma could, and Mamma’s Mamma could. It was a gift that was passed down from her side of the family. They could see the souls of people after they had died, before they moved on to the other place. Mamma didn’t know what exactly was in the other place, but it must be good. People like Mamma and Even were born so that they could help the people that were stuck. People who were dead, but their souls were still stuck on Earth.  
But the most important part of all of this was that he must keep it a secret, until he got older and found people he really trusted to tell, because most people didn’t believe in ghosts.  
Even couldn’t believe that people didn’t believe in something he saw every day.  
So Even promised his mother and didn’t tell anyone, he just grew up learning from her how to help the dead. His younger sister Maja grew jealous, since she didn’t have the gift. She pretended to see ghosts, but was making them up. She couldn’t see the real ones that Even and Mamma could see. He never told anyone, he never even told Sonja.

Sonja came into his life one breezy afternoon when he was fourteen, new to the school and to the city. She smelled like cotton candy all of the time back then, and Even fell in love immediately with everything about her, even the way she tied her shoes and applied her lip gloss. A few months of talking and he got to kiss her, to taste that lip gloss. Cotton candy flavored. It figured.  
The next thing he knew he was dating the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He fell in love with her more and more every day, and at times he wondered if she would be the first person he would tell about his secret.  
Life got more complicated one day when they were sixteen, when Sonja called him crying, saying that she was pregnant, and that she wanted to keep the baby.  
He had dreamed of a life with him and Sonja, a life that involved children, but he didn’t expect that to happen now, when he was still in school. But one look at Sonja, he knew that he could never leave her.  
Despite objections from Even’s parents, the two of them decided that the best thing would be to get married. Neither of them wanted their child to be born to parents who weren’t married, as if that was the worst thing in the world. Sonja moved in with Even and his parent’s after her parents left to live in Berlin, not knowing what to do with their own daughter getting pregnant so young.  
When Annaken was born, Even’s parents urged him to tell Sonja the secret. He swore he would do it after they got married, and he hadn’t. But Sonja and him were so happy, having just had a baby, that he didn’t want to ruin it with some Sixth Sense bullshit. So he waited, and he waited. He said he would do it after they graduated, and he didn’t. He said he’d do it when they both got jobs and were settled, and he didn’t. He said he’d do it when they moved out, and he didn’t. A few years later, when Sonja got pregnant again, he said he’d do it then. And he didn’t.  
His mother came up to him shortly after Maine and Aimee were born with concern.  
“Even, I know you can take care of yourself, but you have three children now. At least one of them could have the gift, and how will you explain that to Sonja?”  
Even prayed that none of the girls got the gift. He prayed that this was something he would never have to deal with. Sonja wasn’t like his Dad; she was a realist.  
So he prayed none of the girls would get the gift. That hope was squashed when Annaken came to them a year ago saying that she could see people that weren’t there.

Even needed to get some groceries for dinner before heading home, so he left the girls in the car together, since all of them were sleeping. If he were to wake them up now, there would be a nightmare happening, and he would be responsible.  
He checked, and he was gone not even ten minutes, returning with a bag full of groceries. Outside his car though, was a figure.  
As Even got closer, he breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that the figure was just a ghost, not a kidnapper or a police officer. But still, the ghost was a bit too close to his car for comfort.  
“Umm, may I help you?” Even asked, not really in the mood for helping anybody. He looked around, making sure there was nobody there seeing him talking to nothing.  
The ghost turned around slowly at him, and Even could see that this ghost was not like any ghost Even had ever seen. Although he was smoky and he seemed to float above the ground when he walked, the ghost had color. Every ghost he had ever seen had been the color of smoke.  
He could see this ghost’s color. He could see his skin, the color of his red sweatshirt, the blue jeans, his blond hair, and his green eyes.  
“Where am I?” the ghost asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Song: A World Alone by Lorde


	2. Him (Ideal World)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words on the first chapter. I do plan to continue this series, hopefully for a while. Updates won't usually be out every day but I'm on summer break so I plan to be writing a lot.

“Umm, the street,” Even said, not knowing how specific the ghost boy wanted him to be. He looked younger than Even, but not too much younger. The boy had blond curls that were cut short, with long, black eyelashes that Even could see even from far away. Cuts covered the boy’s neck and face, usually ghosts kept the injuries that they died with. Considering the massive blood stain that covered the boy’s red sweater, almost blending in with the fabric, Even could tell that this boy must have died in some horrific accident.  
“I can see that,” said the boy, as he tried to grab onto the hood of Even’s car. His hand slipped through the car, ghosts couldn’t touch objects without intense concentration and practice. This boy must be newly dead, which may explain why the boy still had his color, but Even hadn’t ever seen a ghost with color before in his life. Even the ones who had just died. He’d talk to his mother about it later, he thought, maybe she had seen a ghost with color before.  
“We’re in Oslo, Norway,” said Even, putting his groceries into the back of the car.  
“Why can’t I touch the car,” said the boy, starting to freak out.  
“Well,” said Even, debating whether or not he wanted to go through this right now. Right after people died, their ghosts were often confused. They didn’t remember how they died right away, or that they even were dead. It took a while for their last memories to come back. Finding a ghost right after they died, it usually took a while for them to calm down, and Even just didn’t have time for the ghost right now. He usually didn’t have time for ghosts these days. Back in high school, he felt he had all the time in the world to help ghosts move on, but he had his own life to worry about right now. The kids didn’t care that he had a ghost to help, they needed to be fed and they needed to go to bed at a reasonable hour.  
He was planning on leaving the ghost boy, he really was. He was going to ignore this boy, as he ignored others, just so that he could get home. He only had just enough time to get home, make dinner, have everyone eat, get everyone bathed, and get everyone to bed at a reasonable time. If he didn’t get the girls to sleep by 8, they would be up all night, and miserable in the morning, which would make them late to daycare and school, and him late to work, and he couldn’t be late to work anymore.  
So he was just about to shrug off this ghost and drive off when he heard a voice through the car window.  
“Pappa,” said Anniken, “Who is that?”  
“No one,” said Even, trying to get into his car quickly.  
“Why does he have color?” asked Anniken.  
“Why would I not have color?” The boy tried to grab Even’s arm, but it fell through. He looked at his hand, his hand that was clearly right there, but couldn’t grasp onto anything.  
“Please,” said the boy, “I think there’s something wrong with me, I think there’s something going on, please help me.”  
If ghosts could cry, tears would be forming outside of the boy’s eyes by now. Anniken had starting screaming in the backseat, waking up the twins who had also started screaming.  
“Pappa, why does he have color? Why does the ghost have color?” Anniken cried.  
“What does she mean by ghost?” the boy asked.  
“Quiet, girls!” Even said, stepping out of the car, “Look, there’s a lot going on right now, a lot going on and I just don’t have the time to explain it to you. But you’re not alive anymore. You’re in Oslo, and you’re not alive, and nobody can see you, nobody but us.”  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
“You’re dead. I’m sorry to tell you this way, but I don’t have time to be kind. You’re dead. You have some sort of unfinished business to work out, which is why you’re still here. I know this is a lot to process, but I need to go.” Even stepped back into the car. Anniken had stopped her screaming, but there were still tears stained on her face. She didn’t like when Even yelled. Maine and Aimee were still screaming though; at two years old, they always screamed when inconvenienced.  
The boy stood next to the car, not moving, not saying anything. He looked down at his feet, and noticed for the first time that he wasn’t exactly touching the ground. He tried to grab his own hair but it fell out of his grasp.  
“What the fuck,” the boy said, barely forming words.  
“If you want, you can follow the car home. Just concentrate on the car and you’ll be able to follow us. I can help you more there, but I need to go.”  
-  
“Honey, what do you mean you’re seeing people?” Sonja had asked Anniken after she had come home from that first day of school a year ago. Her short blonde hair had been stuffed into a hat, just how she liked it, and her brand new first day of school dress had been stained with red spots from her lunch.  
“I think I see ghosts, Mamma,” Anniken said.  
Sonja tried to make sense of her daughter’s words while Even sat silent, knowing the day he dreaded for so long was finally here.  
“Do you have an imaginary friend?” Sonja suggested, “Like your ballet friend in the dining room?”  
“What ballet friend in the dining room?” Even said.  
“Anni told me that she has a friend who lives in the dining room who does ballet. I figured it was just an imaginary friend,” Sonja stated simply.  
Anniken shook her head, “No, I see them. They’re real. And they’re not friends.”  
The thing is, there was a ballet girl living in the dining room. Even had been trying to help her move on for months now, but she had decided living in their dining room was a better option. Even didn’t like the thought of a ghost living in their dining room, but she didn’t talk much, and Even had spent his whole life getting used to living around ghosts. Anniken just had never mentioned being able to see her to him.  
“Honey,” said Sonja, placing one hand on Anniken’s cheek, “I know it may seem like they’re real, but they’re not honey, they’re not.”  
“Yes they are!” Anniken threw her mother’s hand away, “They talk to me too! They talk to me during class and I scream and I get in trouble! Nobody else sees them, but I do! And I hear them.”  
“Okay,” said Sonja, defeated, “Let’s try this a different way. Let’s talk about your friends. What do they look like?”  
“They’re not my friends!” Anniken yelled.  
“How about the ballet girl, she’s your friend right?” Sonja was trying her best to keep herself calm, “Who is she, what does she look like.”  
Anniken sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, “She’s got hair all put in a bun, with silky ballet shoes, and a sparkly dress, but she’s all gray. And she’s got a big hole in her head, where someone shot her and she died.”  
“Anniken-” Sonja began.  
“And she’s really pretty. I can show you were she is. Her name is Hilde,” Anniken finished.  
“No,” said Even, “Her name is Vilde.”

-

When Even arrived home, he didn’t see the boy there. He probably didn’t think he’d be able to follow a car, It figures, ghosts don’t usually realize they can teleport right after they’ve died. He brings the kids in, who have all calmed down. Anniken’s still a bit upset, but she cheers up when she sees Vilde practicing dance in the dining room, like she always was.  
“Vilde,” said Anniken, climbing up onto one of the wooden chairs, “I saw a ghost with color today.”  
Vilde immediately stopped practicing and turned to Anniken, her mouth wide open. “With color? What do you mean?”  
“You could see the color of his clothes and his hair and his eyes!” Anniken stood up on the chair and started jumping, all sorrow forgotten while talking to her closest friend. If a five year old could be friends with a 20 year old dead girl.  
“Well, that’s just unfair,” said Vilde as Even put the twins down in their high chairs. “Even, did you hear of this, the boy with color? Did you see him?”  
“Yes I did,” said Even, starting to take the groceries out of the bag, “Did you ever have color? Right after you died?”  
“I never had anything at all!” She exclaimed, trying to tie up the smoke of her hair with a ribbon. After being dead for a while, ghosts usually learned how to control their movement and touch their own body parts, but it took practice. Vilde was still struggling.  
“Well, I don’t know why this boy does, but he does,” Even put a pot of water on the stove.  
“Can I see this boy?” Vilde asked, “My dress used to be the most gorgeous baby pink color, close to a Mac lipstick shade I had, they matched perfectly, and they also matched my pointe shoes perfectly, but I haven’t been able to see that shade in years, I miss pink, with you forcing your daughters to be tomboys and all.”  
“I don’t force anything on them, and the boy didn’t come home with us.”  
Vilde pouted. “Well this just isn’t cozy at all,” she mumbled, before disappearing. She’d be back, though. There wasn’t anywhere else for her to be.  
Even felt bad for Vilde though. She had been a successful ballerina shot by her boyfriend. He remembered seeing the stories about her in the papers. He didn’t know what her unfinished business was, since her boyfriend was caught and in prison, only that she refused to go back to see her family. He couldn’t help her cross over, but if he was completely honest, he didn’t try too hard. She could be annoying, but he liked having her around.  
Even was trapped in his own world, cooking dinner, when he heard a shriek from Anniken at the table.  
“Pappa,” she said, pointing out the window, “He’s back.”  
Indeed he was, the boy was staring at Evens car again, parked outside. Even sighed and turned the stove off before leaving.  
“Hey,” he said to the boy, who kept his eyes on the car.  
“I followed the car,” said the boy.  
“Come inside,” said Even. “Tell me your name first.”  
The boy looked slowly at Even, eyes full of fear. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Ideal World - Girlpool


	3. Anniken (Why Try)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no update for a few weeks, my laptop broke and I have to steal my brother's from now on.

Mornings were the absolute worst.  
(Asides from the nights and the midday).

The twins woke up at the crack of dawn, screaming, wanting to be out of their cribs. Even knew it was about time that he moved them into toddler beds now that they were two years old, but he never got around to it. These were his youngest children to be out of cribs; and them being in beds would mean they had the freedom to run around all night, while in the cribs they were detained.

But since they shared a room, the twins waking up early meant that Anniken would be forced to wake up early. She'd roll out of her bed, walk to Even's room, and bury herself in his sheets while he tended to the twins, who had no more interest in sleep.  
  
Aimee would be cared to first, since she would be easier to handle. After changing her diaper, he would set her down in her high chair that she was too small for and cut up bananas, grapes, and small bits of toast. These were the only foods that she would eat in the morning. He was lucky they were healthier foods, but if he did not have them that meant Aimee would throw a tantrum and would refuse to eat until lunch, which always had to be a peanut butter sandwich and small cereal bits. As long as her food was in order she was okay.  
  
Maine was a different story. From the hours of 5 to 11 each day she was inconsolable, as told from the teachers at her daycare. He'd attempt to change her diaper, only to be kicked in the face by small feet and peed on. He thought only boy babies could pee on you. He was wrong.  
  
Trying to get Maine to eat in the morning was a dangerous game, a game he sometimes won, but mostly failed. He'd give her a little of everything in the fridge, just to see what she was in the mood for. All of the fruits. Yogurt. Bread. Some cheese. He'd even try to make her an egg, only for her to throw it on the floor, all while she sobbed.

Today, she had allowed Even to feed her some chopped up strawberries and grape jam, a strange combination. She cried while she ate, not letting up for even a moment. Eating at all was a success with Maine. Vilde had come back sometime during the night, and was singing some sort of lullaby to the girl, trying to sooth her.  
  
"Vilde," said Even, rolling his eyes, "That's really not doing anything. We don't even know if she can see you yet."  
  
Vilde pouted and crossed her arms, "I'm sorry for trying to be helpful."  
  
Even ignored her as she stomped around the kitchen, the best she could with her feet floating, and disappeared through the window, probably to practice dancing outside. Maine had stopped eating the strawberries, and had started to throw them on the floor. He took this as the cue to stop and take the girls back upstairs.  
  
Before getting Anniken up, it was important to get the twins dressed and back into their cribs, so that he didn't have to chase them throughout the house. Aimee sat, playing with Even's phone, able to distract herself, while Maine stood up in her crib, screaming, trying to pull off the pink bow Even had put in her hair.

Anniken had fallen asleep in Even's bed, the blankets wrapped up around her like a cocoon. Even hated to wake her, but she needed to start getting ready if everyone was going to be done on time.

"Hello, Anniken, time to get up," he said softly, shaking her lightly.

The girl groaned and turned over, pulling the blankets up closer to her face. "Nei, Pappa. No school today."

"Yes today," he said, pulling the blankets off.

She whined, kicking her legs.

"If you're not downstairs and dressed in five minutes, then I will dress you yourself, in whatever I pick, understand?" Even said, leaving the room. When Sonja was still here, she would always dress the girls. She'd somehow be able to calm Maine down in the morning. She'd be able to force Anniken in some frilly dress and tights that Anniken hated, but would wear anyway to please her mother. She'd struggle, but Sonja was able to take care of Anniken's long, blonde hair and put it up into pretty styles that could take an hour. Not long after Sonja left, Anniken asked to cut her hair short, and Even obliged, since he didn't know how to style her hair himself.  
  
Even heard Anniken start to move above him while he made breakfast for both of them, which consisted of fruit salad and toast. He put some fruit and cut up sandwiches in baggies for the kids to eat while they were out for the day. Right when he was putting breakfast on the table Anniken strolled in wearing jeans, a red t-shirt, and a purple and pink snow cap.

"You're wearing two different shoes," Even said.

She glared at him as she sat down, "I wanted to wear them both."

Even shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to fight the fight. There were worse things his child could be doing than wearing two different shoes.

Another figure walked, or rather floated, into the the room them, a rather confused figure.

"How was your night?" Even asked the boy. He had only a little time to talk to the new ghost last evening.

The boy stared at the ground. "I can't sleep."

"No, you won't be able to anymore," Even said without missing a beat.

"Dead can't sleep," said Anniken, her mouth full of food.

"So, I'm...Actually dead?" The boy asked.

"Yup," said Anniken, not even turning to face the boy,

"The ballet girl told me that I'm not supposed to have color, she said all other ghosts are black and white," said the boy. He had lifted his head, and Even could see his face more clearly now. Light from the window went right through his cheekbones. No shine reflected off of his green eyes. The boy's spare upper lip, shaped like a flying bird, trembled, and Even realized how scared this boy must be. All of the ghosts were like this, so Even was used to it, but this boy had no memories of his life at all. It was like being born and then being told that you are already dead.

"You, well, I haven't ever seen a ghost, um, spirit with color before in my life. But you have all of the other markings of a spirit. You're floating, you can't be seen by others, you can teleport-"

"Why can you see me?" said the boy. "I was walking up and down the street, and I thought everyone was ignoring me, until you. Why can you?"

"We're special," said Anniken.

"Well yes, we do have some abilities. Anniken and I, and my mother, we have a gift. A gift to see and talk to the dead. My mother says we were put on Earth to help them, well, to help you."

"So, you're like, mediums and shit?" The boy asked. The boy's shirt fell off of his shoulder a bit, revealing his collar bone sticking out of his skin. He was kind of beautiful, like a perfect human.

"Language, please," is all Even said as Anniken put her hands over her ears.

"Um, sorry," the boy said.

"It's alright. I have to leave soon, but I'll be back later tonight. We'll have more time to talk. Do you remember anything else?"

The boy shook his head. "Nothing. Is that normal."  
  
"No," Even admitted, standing up, "Normally ghosts have trouble remembering exactly how they died right after they...But they usually remember the rest of their lives, who they are."

"I don't have anything," the boy said, looking down again.

Even sighed. He usually didn't like having ghosts inside of his house, except for Vilde, since she had ingrained herself into their lives, but this boy was something different. He was special, Even had never seen anything like him before, with the color and the loss of memory, and Even needed to get to the bottom of it.

"That's alright," Even lied, trying to do anything to calm the boy, who he should probably stop calling boy, since he didn't look much younger than him. "Do you have a name? Anything that you can remember?"

The boy shook his head.

"He looks like a Carl," Anniken said. She had moved to the closet to retrieve her coat.

The boy made a face, and Even could tell that whatever his name was, it was not Carl.

Maybe the boy had lost his memory, but perhaps his name could be an automatic to him, like the way this boy still spoke Norwegian.

"Just tell me the first thing you think of when you think of your name," Even suggested.

The boy stood silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then just shook his head, "I'm sorry, I don't know."

"It's okay. You can choose another name until you remember-"  
  
"Mort, we will call him Mort!" Anniken decided, running from the room. "We will call him Mort."

Mort didn't seem to like this name much either, but he seemed to accept it.

"I'll be back later, you can talk to Vilde if you want," Even said, leaving Mort alone in the kitchen.

\-----

With Anniken dropped off at school, the twins were the last ones that needed to go before Even headed to work. But today seemed to be one of Maine's worst days.  
  
"Please, darling, you have to go," Even said to Maine, who was screaming and squirming in his arms. Aimee had already willingly gone inside.

"No, no go!" Maine shouted. She squirmed around more in Even's arms, before lying still on her back with her head hanging over Even's right elbow. She closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out with a "Blah" sound, pretending to be dead.

"Maine, sweetheart, it's time to go inside," one of the daycare teachers was bending down and putting her face right in front of Maine's, "Your Pappa needs to go to work."

Maine opened one of her eyes just a crack and said: "Go away, ugly face."

"Alright, enough of this," Even said, forcing Maine into the teacher's arms, "I need to go."

Even got to work right on time, but since he was basically in charge of the restaurant unless the owner wanted to stop by, it didn't really matter if he was late, unless one of the waiters wanted to rat him out or something. Even was basically in charge of the restaurant through the breakfast and lunch shifts, and halfway through the dinner shift. He and Sonja had worked here together before, while also taking University courses on the side. Even had needed to stop the courses after Sonja left.

-

"Even, we need to talk about this," Sonja had said in the car that day.

He was driving fast, his hands gripped on the wheel. He should have told her sooner. He should have told her sooner.

"Sonja," he said, "I should have told you this before, but my family, we have a gift. We can see people."

"This isn't funny anymore Even, stop driving so fast," Sonja had shouted. The kids were left with a neighbor. He had tried to explain to her countless times at home, and she would accuse him of joking, of being crazy, that maybe they needed to change his meds again, that the bipolar did this, that he was forcing his delusions on Anniken-

He drove, because he didn't know what else to do anymore.

"This is going too far," Sonja said, "Stop, Even stop, we're going to the hospital. Right now. Pull over. Let me drive."

Even didn't listen, he just kept driving, trying to block out her words. She wasn't listening. He should have known that she would never listen.

He pulled up to his parent's house, and Even heard Sonja breathe a sigh of relief next to him.

The first thing he said when Line Bech opened the door was, "Mamma, Sonja knows. We need to talk."

Five minutes later, Sonja was sitting stone cold on the couch, a hot cup of tea in her hands. Even sat next to her. They weren't touching.

"Our family," Line said, "Possesses a special gift. We can see spirits who have died and are stuck on Earth. We help them cross over. And now it appears that Anniken has this same gift."

"This, I'm sorry Line, but this is ridiculous," Sonja said finally, after minutes of silence. "I can't, is this some joke you're all pulling? I can't imagine my daughter, being this sort of, this sort of..." Even didn't know what she was going to say. Freak?

"It's not a joke, Sonja. I can have you talk to my mother as well," Line said. "I have also acquired many other friends over the years who have the gift."

It took about an hour more for Sonja to calm down, for her to accept this as true.

Before they left, she turned and asked Line, "Do Maine and Aimee...Do they also have this?"

"We won't know until later," replied Line.

At home, Sonja went straight to bed, while Even put the children to sleep. When he walked into their bedroom, she was turned away from him. He tried to sit down on the bed, but she ripped the rest of the covers away from him. He decided that he could sleep on the couch for one night.

He didn't know one night would turn into weeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Why Try - Ariana Grande


	4. Aimee (Freak of Nature)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some warnings for this chapter, there is a part that included some slight horror/gore and blood. It's labeled with **** if you want to skip over it.

"I'm concerned about Aimee's development," said the teacher.

Even didn't have time for this. Anniken, who had just been picked up from her after school care, was waiting out in the car. He couldn't leave her there.

"Can't this meeting happen some other time?" Even asked, "I have places I need to be."  
  
"I can make this quick," she said.

Even felt ridiculous, sitting in one of the small chairs made for the little kids. Maine and Aimee were sitting around a pile of blocks. Maine was building some sort of tower, while Aimee sat next to her quietly, licking her hand.

"I'm concerned about Aimee's development," the teacher repeated, "She's behind the other kids."  
  
"Some kids are like that," said Even.

"And Maine is ahead of her development compared to the other children verbally and socially," she went on.

"And some kids are like that as well," Even said, not even trying to hide the rolling of his eyes.

The teacher frowned. "Aimee spends most of the day isolated, despite the best efforts of me and the other teachers. She prefers to play alone than with the other kids."

"Kids are shy," Even started to stand up.

"Her social skills are behind where they should be, and don't seem to be making significant progress. Verbally, she is behind where she should be," the teacher said, not letting up as Even walked over the two girls and picked them both up, with one in each arm.

"Kids are all different," Even said, "Is there any real reason why you're telling me this?"

The teacher sighed and stood up to face Even. "Sometimes twins can become anti-social, since they spend so much time around each other, that they don't learn to expand their social skills with other children. However, I don't see that to be the case here. Maine is perfectly fine with other children, and she's developing ahead of them, despite her emotional outbursts, which could be a problem if they continue."  
  
Even narrowed the eyes at his woman, as if his children weren't sitting there in his arms, hearing every word that she said, as if his children were more like problems to be solved rather complicated people of their own.

Despite Even slowly making his way toward the door, the woman continued, "Sometimes with children of teen parents, or single parents-"

Now, his personal life was none of their business. Even didn't care to ask how this woman figured out his life story, but he wasn't sticking around to find out. He walked straight out the door before she could finish her sentence.

Luckily, the twins didn't seem to realize what just happened. "Pappa," said Maine, "Home, I'm HUNGRY."

 

  
-

  
  
"No more after school," Anniken announced when they got home.

"Not a discussion," said Even.

"It's not fair," she grumbled, slinking back into her chair.

Anniken had been tired of her after school program since the day it started. While everyone else got to go home after school, she had to stay until Even finished his shift at work.

"It's the best I can do right now, Anniken," Even said, not looking at her while he was making dinner. Sure, he could find a way for someone to take Anniken home from school, but even with working almost all day at the restaurant six days a week, he couldn't afford to have someone watch her every day.  
  
"I can stay with grandma, please," said Anniken.

She was talking about Even's parents. They both were still working full time, and while they watched the kids when Even worked on the weekends, there were busy during the week.

"That's not going to work, Anniken, you know they have to work."

"What about tante Maja?"

Even's 17 year old sister would probably rather do anything than watch his children every day. Not to mention that she would rather not do favors for him of all people.

"She's in high school, she doesn't have time," Even lied. She probably did have time, but he didn't want to discuss his confusing family dynamics with Anniken right now.

"Vilde can watch me," Anniken exclaimed, running over to the ghost that had just entered the house from the backyard. "She's always here, please, Pappa."  
  
A ghost babysitting his child was the most ridiculous thing that Even had ever heard. Vilde was incapable of several incredibly important parts of childcare due to the fact that she was a ghost, and incapable of several other aspects of childcare due to her personality in general.

Luckily, he didn't have to explain this to Anniken himself.

"I never babysat when I was alive, and I certainly won't do it now," said Vilde, "I am much too busy practicing, taking my long walks in the garden, and watching television."

"I never seen you watching our TV," said Even.

"Well not anymore, since you always yelled at me," Vilde explained, "I go to your neighbors and watch there. I miss my old shows. They think their TV is haunted," she said, laughing.

"They're not wrong," Even said. Vilde ignored this.  
  
"You can watch TV when you're watching me," suggested Anniken.

"No, you talk too much during the good parts," said Vilde.

Anniken frowned and threw herself down into a chair, "It's not fair. Everyone else gets to go home and I'm stuck."

"Don't you like your teachers?" Even made the mistake of asking.  
  
She opened one eye that glared at him. "They. Are. Evil."

"That's not true," Even said.

Anniken huffed and took a note out of her pocket and threw it on the table. It had been crumpled into a ball. "They gave me that."

Turning away from the stove, Even picked up the note and carefully unraveled it. The note was from Anniken's teacher, stating that if Anniken came to school inappropriately dressed again that the school headmaster would be contacted, and there may be consequences.

"Consequences?" said Even, spitting out his words, "Consequences for what? What is this about?"

"My shoes," said Anniken, looking down at the ground, "Miss Aspen yelled at me in front of the whole class, and then Anja Boyum pointed at laughed at me."

Even turned back to cooking, in the hopes focusing on the food would help recede his anger. It didn't.

"This is ridiculous," he stammered, trying to stir food, "For wearing two different shoes? What does that have to do with education?"

"I don't wanna go to school," Anniken said, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"What about your friends?" Vilde asked in some attempt to console her.

"I don't have any friends," Anniken said.

Not wanting to push the issue farther, he shrugged and continued to cook, not wanting any more of his own aner to rub off onto his daughter.  
  
"How do you turn on a TV?"

Even hadn't realized anyone else was in the room.

He turned around to see that Mort was standing in the doorway. Apparently he had been there for a while.

"It takes a while, but it has to deal with messing with the electrical currents in the correct way. It takes until you're dead for a few months," Vilde said, like it was nothing.

Mort nodded, and bent his neck like he was looking down on the floor, but his eyes were emotionless empty, seeming to be looking at nothing at all. God, this kid was so depressing.

"I'm almost done with dinner, we can talk after," Even said to Mort.

 

Later that evening, Even found himself on the computer searching for obituaries. Usually ghosts could figure out who they were, so that he didn't have to do this.

He'd found nothing in Oslo matching Mort's description from the past few weeks. Since Mort had only been appearing as a ghost for the past few days, so he said, he wouldn't have died anytime before that. He found a few people that died in Mort's age range, which Even guessed to be around late teens to early twenties, but they were all either women or died in ways that wouldn't match Mort's injuries. There was one kid, a Peder Gunderson, that could have matched Mort's description, but his picture did not look like Mort at all.

"We can check obituaries with some other cities, maybe some smaller towns and such," Even said, "But if you materialized here it's likely that you're from here."

Mort nodded, "And if you don't find anything?"

"Well, you have to exist somewhere bud, we'll keep looking." Even said, looking up obituaries for areas surrounding Oslo now.

"Did you draw these yourself?" Mort said.

Even looked up to see Mort looking at some drawings Even did of the girls.  
  
"Uh yeah," said Even, "It's a hobby."

"You're really good," said Mort, "You should be an artist."

"That doesn't make much money, though," Even said, scrolling through obituaries.

"I think you could," Mort said quietly.

After a few minutes of silence, and no luck on the obituaries, Mort spoke again.

"Anniken's name, is that like Anakin Skywalker?" Mort asked.

Even rolled his eyes. This kid didn't know his own name or anything about his own life, but he knew what Star Wars was? How did ghost amnesia work exactly?

"Kind of, I guess, it's spelled differently," Even said, chuckling. "It's spelled differently. Her mother liked the name when I suggested it, I just didn't quite tell her what it was from."

Mort chuckled, and Even could see a half smile from on the boy's face. It was the first time Even had seen him smile, and it almost literally brought life to his face, in a completely ironic way of course. Mort should smile more, Even thought, it suits him.

\---

It had been a month since Sonja had found out.

Even thought things were finally going to get better. She started letting Even sleep with her in their bedroom again. She started talking more and more to Even's parents, at least that's what Line told Even. Particularly, Sonja had been talking a lot to Anders, and how he dealt living with the whole ghost situation when he first found out.

She also started to spend more time with Anniken. Even hated to think this, but he thought that maybe that Sonja had been trying to avoid their oldest daughter after she found out about their abilities. For nearly a month, it was Even who got Anniken ready in the morning, while it was always Sonja. She didn't even bother to change Anniken's terrible hair, as Even had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

It was slow, but he thought that they were finally going to be a family again.  
  
One day, they all decided to go to the cinema together, as a family. There was a new kids movie that Anniken wanted to see, and the twins were finally getting to the age where they could pass two hours without screaming or needing to be fed.

Everything was fine until the movie was over, when Even came out to see a ghost sitting right outside the cinema. Ghosts could be seen practically everywhere, and Even had been working with Anniken, trying to get her used to them, and used to the idea that these people weren't particularly alive. There had actually been a few other ghosts roaming around the cinema, but this girl was different.

 

****  
  
From the back she seemed normal, with long black hair and a white dress that floated down to her ankles. Her feet were covered in thick wool socks, and in her hand she held a thick, dark cluft of somebody's hair. And then she turned around.

The girl didn't have eyes. Where her eyes would have been were just blood, blood and sockets. The entire front part of her dress was covered in blood, and she had been stabbed several times across her stomach and chest. She girl opened her mouth and screamed when she saw that Even could see her, and he could see that most of her teeth were missing.

He tried to grab Anniken, to shield her and pull her away, but it was too late, she was staring wide eyed at the bloody girl.

"Pappa," Anniken whispered, her voice shaking.

"What is it?" Said Sonja, who had both Maine and Aimee in a carriage in front of her.

"What happened?" Anniken's voice got louder, to the point where people around them started to take notice. She pointed a finger at the bloody girl, who was still just screaming, a high pitched, unforgettable wail.

Anniken broke away from Even's hand and ran over to the girl, only to shrink away in fear. "Pappa, tell her to stop yelling," she cried, "Tell her!"

Even started rushing toward Anniken, but it was too late.

"My Pappa talks to the dead girl, we need to help her," she said to the frightened people around her.

"It's time to go," Even said, picking Anniken up, "There's nothing you need to see. Nothing you need to worry about."

"She has no eyes!" Screamed Anniken as Even and Sonja tried to hurry away from the situation. "The girl has no eyes!"

"Can you quiet your kid up? It's scaring my child." A man snapped at them as they rushed past.

"She's right there." Anniken pointed to where the girl was, the girl that nobody could see. "Pappa, help her, you always help her!"

"My kids are going to have damn nightmares!" A woman yelled at them, "Who the hell are you people?"

 

 

****

  
\---

Sonja put the kids up to bed without a word to him. Things were finally starting to get better, and now Sonja would certainly be mad at him again.

Sonja never came downstairs, and Even thought it might be better for him to just sleep downstairs to avoid a fight. Sonja would come to him to talk when she was ready. This was something that happened sometimes, not all of the ghosts were pretty, but it would be something that Anniken would get used to like he did.

Even woke up in the middle of the night by someone coming down the stairs. He sat up to see Sonja standing in the doorway to the living room with her arms crossed. She had changed, but not into pajamas. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Hei," he said.

"You never came upstairs," she said.

"I didn't think you wanted me too," Even said.

She nodded. "Maybe that's another thing you should have talked to me about."

Even fell back onto the couch, "Can we talk about this in the morning? When we can rest?"

Sonja sighed,"Even...We need to talk now."

"Fine," he said, not opening his eyes, "I'm sorry about what happened today. Anniken will get used to it. I did. My Mamma did. My grandma did. Everyone who has this ability did."

"She shouldn't have to get used to it," Sonja said, not moving from her stance in the doorway.

"Well, there's no way to get rid of it," Even said, "She's going to have to. It sucks, but she doesn't have a choice."

"I didn't have a choice either, Even," Sonja snapped.

Even finally sat up again, "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean," Sonja said, "From the moment I was pregnant you knew this could happen. You knew, I didn't, and you didn't bother to tell me. You knew what you were signing up for, for two pregnancies and three children, and you didn't tell me shit. You chose to have this life, with children who could have this, but I didn't. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't."

"I'm sorry Sonja," Even said, "I really should have told you. I know I should have, and I'll never forgive myself for it. But this is our life."

"I didn't know it could be," Sonja said, her voice starting to crack. Tears were starting to form at the corners of her eyes. "I could only assume that our lives would be normal, and now, I can never have that. If I knew when I was 17-"

"You would have what? Left? Not had her? If you had a daughter that was less than perfect, less than normal?" Even snapped. She could attack him all she wanted for his mistakes, but none of this was on Anniken. He stood up from the couch to face her.

"I don't know what I would have done!" Sonja shouted through her sobs. "I don't know! I never got to make that decision."

"I'm sorry," Even said, lowering his head.

"So I'm making it now."

Even looked up to see Sonja walking back through the doorway, to two large suitcases that Even hadn't noticed before. He can't move as she drags them both out the front door.

A few moments later, he suddenly remembers that his legs can work and he rushes after her, to where she's piling the suitcases into the back of a cab.

"What the hell are you doing?" He yelled.

"I can't do it, Even. I thought I could, but I can't." Sonja's voice was broken by sobs.

"Listen, Sonja, we can talk, just give it time-" Even ran after her, tripping over his own feet.  
  
"I gave it time, I've done a lot of thinking, and talking." She shook her head as Even regained his balanced, "I talked to your father. How he began to love being in your family, he loved that they had a secret just between them, how it brought the family closer, made them more special than the rest of the world. I...I can't do that. I can't be that family again. I'm thinking about the rest of my life."

"What about the rest of our kids lives?" Even asked, "Please Sonja, if you want to leave me, fine, but don't do this to them. They didn't do anything wrong."

"I know," Sonja cried, "But, I can't handle this. I learned that today. They'll be better off without me."

"Don't say that, it's not true, it's absolutely not true."

"We need to stop lying to ourselves," Sonja said, "And each other. I'm sorry. Tell them...I'm sorry."

She stepped into the cab, and all Even could do was look. When the cab started to drive away, he heard a small voice behind me.

"Mamma?" said Anniken, in the doorway. She must have heard the noise and come downstairs.

"Where's she going," said Anniken, running toward the car. "Mamma!"

The car didn't stop, and it took Even a few moments to remember that he couldn't leave Anniken out there running after the cab in the dark.

"Mamma! Where you going!" She cried running after the car.

Even ran after her and scooped her small body up into his arms. "It's going to be alright," he whispered as Anniken cried, "Mamma's just going away for a little while. Everything will be alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Freak of Nature by Broods


	5. Line & Anders (Crystals)

"I don't think I like the name Mort," Mort said one afternoon.

Even was scanning newspapers and new sites from all over Scandinavia. He'd yet to find the real Mort. There had been a few close calls, such as a boy in Finland who was hit by a car, as Even suspected Mort was, but after scouring Facebook, Even had found his picture, and he looked nothing like Mort.

"Then what do you want to be called then? Does anything come to mind?" Even smirked up at the boy, who was sit-floating on the foot of Even's bed. Over the past few weeks, Mort had come more and more comfortable with the ghost body, with Vilde helping him learn how to function. He'd hadn't gotten the hang of controlling the TV yet, but that took Vilde a while to master herself. 

"Nothing comes to mind, but I know it's not Mort," said Mort, "I wish it did, I wish I knew, but I know absolutely know nothing, nothing at all."

"You know, when we figure this thing out, if your name is Mort, that's going to be absolutely hilarious," Even said, smiling while trying to find more articles, trying to find something that they had missed.

"If we find out," Even heard Mort's voice say, now small and far away. When he looked up, Mort was on the other side of Even's bedroom, looking at some of Even's drawings again.

"Mort, or, um, dude I guess," Even said, pushing his laptop away, "We're going to figure this out. Trust me, I haven't worked this hard on a ghost in my entire life. I would die before I let you go unsolved."

Mort gave no response, just kept looking at the drawings. He always used to draw, but since Sonja left, he had started to draw more and more, to the point where his room was overflowing with pencil sketches and the walls were coated with charcoal. 

"I mean it," Even said, standing up from his bed, "I, I believe there's a reason for things."

Mort snorted, "Really?"

"Yes," said Even, "I believe that only we control our response to things, how we handle situations, but the things that happen to us, the things that happen to us, they're meant to happen, and how we respond to them creates our life."

"What if we don't have control over anything," Mort said, staring at a drawing Even had down of the skyline of Oslo, a snowy day, where the entire city was covered in gray and Even's drawings of the building were barely there, but still visible against the sky. "What if everything we do, so, is already determined by something else, and we're all just living here?"

"I can't think like that," Even said, "I need to have some sort of control."

"What do you mean?" Mort said, turning his head back.

"I..." Even didn't talk about his life to most people, but ghosts were the best people to tell your secrets to. "I have bipolar disorder. I got diagnosed when I was a kid, and sometimes it makes me feel like I don't have control. So I take all the control that I have."

"I get that," said Mort, "I feel so out of control right now."

"Mort," said Even, "I will figure this out. I will do my best by you."

"I'm so glad I have you at least," Mort said quietly, "I can't imagine having nobody at all."

Nobody at all. How many ghosts had Even passed by on the street, how many spirits had he ignored just because he didn't have the time? Were they still out there? Did they still need him? Were there more like Mort, who had nobody, no memories at all?

"Who is this?" Mort asked, pointing at a picture of Sonja and the kids. This one he had drawn right after Sonja left, hoping for his life to come back to him.

"That's Sonja," Even said, looking down at his feet, "She's the girl's mother."

"You love her," Mort said, his voice low and slow, "Every line is so carefully placed on pictures of her and your daughters. But not anybody else."

"I did. Maybe. No, yes I did," said Even. "But we're divorced, and she's gone. Learning to stop loving her was the most difficult thing I've ever done."

Mort tried to reach his hand up to touch the picture, but his hand went right through the wall. "If she does not want to be here, that is her own fault. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else besides this house."

Even chuckles, "Really? With the ghosts in the kitchen and the screaming toddlers and the constantly tired father? Yeah, it's between us and Buckingham Palace."

"I'm serious, and maybe that's not a compliment coming from someone whose never been anywhere else before, but there's no doubt this house is love. I know every place is not like that."

A house of love. It sure didn't feel like a house of love with the toddlers screaming every morning, but maybe to someone else, this is their dream.

"This wasn't the plan, you know," Even said, sitting down at the foot of his bed, "I wanted to go to school for film, I wanted to be a director. Drawing was just a hobby."

"And then?" Mort asked.

"And then, you're a teenager and your girlfriend is pregnant and all of your plans go out the window. And then once you think you've figured that out, she's pregnant again. And then once you've figured that out, she finds out you can see ghosts, and that your kids can probably see ghosts, and she's gone."

"Could be worse," is all Mort said. 

"You're right," said Even.

"And if you can't be a director, I think you should be an artist," Mort said. "I'm serious. This stuff, it could be professional."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not."

Even looked up at Mort, looked at how his curly blond hair fell over his eyes, like a blonde waterfall. How that blond hair would look in the sun, if Mort had a body and the sun could reflect off of him properly, and how his skin would look in light. Would he be very pale, with the light brightening up his face and adding squint to his eyes, or would it give him a sun kissed glow.

Even silently mourned the fact that he would never see Mort in the sun.

He really was a beautiful boy, a boy he would have loved in another life. 

"I think we need to make a plan for the day," said Even clapping his hands together. "I didn't want it to come to this, but it seems we have to make a meeting with the devil."

"The devil?" Mort asked.

"My mother," said Even. "She's been at this for much longer than I have, and my grandmother's been at it for even longer than her. So, since your cause is unique, I've decided t5hat having a few more heads in the game might be useful."

"So, you're stuck, so you're asking your Mommy for help."

"That is a basic simplification. Anyway, yes we are. We are going to my parent's house, and then we're going to buy shoes for toddlers and attempt to find an appropriate outfit for an aggressively tomboy five year old that she can wear to a wedding."

"A wedding?"

"My cousin's. Get ready."

"I can't change," said Mort.

"That's right. Anyway, time to wake up the monsters."

 

By the time Even packed three drowsy eyed children into his car, it was an hour later. Mort stood outside the car.

"So, um, do I..." said Mort.

"Just try to follow it, like you did when we first met," said Even.

"I'm still not quite sure how I did that, the whole thing is pretty much a blur," Mort said, "Maybe I should just stay here, and you can tell me what she says."

"If it were that simple, I would have just called her," Even said, getting into his car. "I want her to be able to see you."

Mort didm't say anything, but nodded his head. 

Halfway toward grandma's house Maine decided it was time for her to have a meltdown. Usually when they had to go to their grandparent's on the weekend, it was because Even was working some weekend shifts.

"Pappa, no don't go!" She screamed.

It didn't matter what Even said, she didn't believe him. She kept kicking and screaming the whole way, which caused Aimee to be uncomfortable from all the noise, and then she started to whine.

"I don't wanna be with them, Pappa," said Anniken.

"We don't have a choice. Maine, we're just going to grandma's for a visit. I'm not going to work today. And then after that we're going shoe shopping just for you girls, okay?

"I hate shoes!" Maine shouted.

"Hate shoes!" Aimee repeated. The few words she did say were usually just copying what someone else said, especially her twin sister.

"I'm hungry," said Anniken, "I didn't eat breakfast."

"And why didn't you eat breakfast?" Even said, trying to concentrate on the road.

"It was icky," she said softly.

"It's not my fault you didn't eat," Even said.

"It's not my fault we have gross food," Anniken sneered. 

"No more complaining, girls!" Even said, "You don't want grandma and grandpa to see you complain, do you?"

Anniken quieted at that, but Maine still wailed, and Aimee started to breath heavily.

By the time Even reached his parent's house, all three of the girls were in tears. Aimee kept repeating a low groan, Maine was still going on about shoes, and Anniken was wiping tears out of her eyes. Great, now his parents were going to think he was a terrible father. Just another reason why he should move in with them.

Before knocking on the door, Even looked around for Mort, but he didn't see him around anywhere. Maybe he had gotten lost, or maybe he had decided to stay at the house anyway.

Great, now he definitely didn't have proof for his mother of the ghost with color. What if she had never seen anyone like him before, and she didn't believe what Even saw?

"We're here!" Said Anniken, loudly knocking on the door before Even could have a chance to. 

 

"Why do we have the pleasure of a visit today?" Line asked once everyone was settled inside, with the children upstairs playing with Maja and Even's father cooking lunch in the kitchen.

"Can't I just come to see my parents?" Even asked.

"You can," Line said, "You don't."

"I just saw you a few weeks ago," said Even.

"A few weeks is a long time when you're fifteen minutes away." 

"We'll discuss my shortcomings later," Even said, "I've had a situation, that um, I have limited knowledge of, and I was wondering if you could help me."

"Oh, so now you need my help, Anders," Line called, "Our boy needs our help, of all things in the world. I thought he was perfectly self-sufficient, weren't you dear?"

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Echoed Anders Næsheim's voice from the kitchen.

"In March," Even muttered.

"So what is your problem?" Line asked, bringing up a cup of tea to her face, "What is so important you've dragged your children out of your house on a Saturday?"

"It's a ghost problem actually-" Even was cut off by a large crash from the kitchen.

"Ah shoot!" Shouted Anders.

"What have you done now, honey?" Line called.

"A bunch of pans just fell off of the counter!" Said Anders, "Like magic!"

"Like magic my ass," Line muttered getting up, "Such a mess, I don't know why I let him cook, or even touch anything in this house ever in the first place."

"I'm sorry," Even heard a familiar voice from the kitchen, "I didn't mean to, I was just scared..."

Even rushed with his mother to the kitchen to find Mort with a pile of pans on the ground, and Anders frantically trying to pick them up while also stirring pasta.

"Who the hell are you?" Line asked.

"It's me, of course, trying to pick up these damn things," said Anders, not knowing he was in the same room as a ghost.

"That's him," said Even, "That's the ghost I was talking about."

"But he, he has color," whispered Line.

"There's a ghost here now?" Anders asked, "Is that who knocked down the damn pans? I'd like an apology, you know. Right now."

"I'm sorry," Mort whispered.

A moment passed, and Anders still stood silent with his arms crossed, chin up in the air.

"He said sorry," Even said.

"I'll see if I accept it, take your ghost to the living room," Anders said, turning back to his food. "Even, you like pans, please pick up the pans for me."

"What makes you think I like pans?"

"You said you're a pansexual."

"That's not what it means. I'm leaving."

Mort got up and slowly followed them to the living room, looking rather ashamed. If ghosts could blush, Even imagined Mort would be blushing right now, with his white cheeks turning a light rosy color that would probably brighten up his face. Not that he cared.

"This...This is quite miraculous. How long have you been dead?" Line asked Mort, sitting down.

"Um, I don't know," Mort said, trying to sit down, but failing and falling through the couch. He was still shook up from the pans incident.

"He materialized about a month or so ago, I've been trying to help Mort since then, but it hasn't been working." Even answered for Mort.

"How about visiting old family and friends, trying to find unfinished business?" Line asked.

"That's the thing about Mort," Line said, "He, he doesn't remember his life. Or who he was."

"Nothing?" Line asked.

Mort shook his head, "Nothing, nothing at all."

"Are you sure?" Line asked. "Even, this boy could be lying. Just trying to take advantage of you-"

"What could a ghost do to take advantage of me? He's been like this for a month. I really believe him, Mamma, I really do."

Someone came bounding down the stairs then, and Maja peered into the living room.

"I heard a crash. Is everyone alright?" she asked.

"Yes dear," said Line, stirring her tea, "Just your father. We're having a spirit discussion, you wouldn't be interested."

Maja rolled her eyes and went up stairs, but not without one last glare at her brother.

"Have you ever seen this before, Mamma?" Even asked, "Not just the memories, but the color too?"

"Nei, not in this case," said Line, "But-"

"Could he be in a coma?" Anders asked, coming in. "I couldn't help but overhear."

"Or eavesdrop," said Line, "But now, spirits have never left the body during a coma, at least in my experience, since they're still technically alive."

"Brain dead?" Anders asked.

"No again," Line said, a hint of annoyance in their voice. "Spirits of those who are brain dead leave their body and behave as a normal ghost, since the soul is in the brain, not the blood of the body," said Line. "The blood just keeps our soul alive. But our brain, that is our soul. That is who we are."

 

"What other cases have you seen this in?" Even asked. 

"I've only seen it once, but in cases where you see a person die, while they die, their soul may or may not separate before they have fully passed."

"You never told me about this," said Even.

"It is very rare that you will see a person die, and even rarer if the person you see die will do it. I've only seen it once, and I used to work in a hospital," Line said. 

"What will they look like, when this happens?" Mort asks, the first time he speaks the entire conversation.

"They will be like ghosts, usually with color," said Line, "And they will be confused. I didn't know why before, but maybe, like in Mort's case, it is because they know nothing at all."

There was silence for a moment.

"So...I'm dying?" Said Mort. 

"I'm not sure," replied Line, "It's just a possibility, I'm not an expert, but it's the only explanation that I can come up with. I can call your grandmother as well, and see what she thinks."

Britta Bech preferred to spend her days lounging around on the couch, so it was no surprise when she answered her daughter's call on the first ring.

"What is it," his granny's disgruntled voice came through the other end.

"Mamma, Even is here, and he's having trouble with a ghost," Line said.

"Oh, so you only call me when you need something, huh? You complain about that son of yours never coming to visit you, but he's busy raising three kids alone. And yet you do nothing, and can't find time to visit dear old dying Mamma."

"Mamma, please, not now," said Line.

"When I die, trust me, I'm not coming back. I don't have unfinished business with any of you fucks."

"Language, Mother!" Line shouted.

"Everyone there is adults, yes?" Britta groaned.

"Mort is questionable," said Line.

"He's at least twenty," said Even.

"Really, Even?" Line asked.

"Anyway," Britta began, "I'm going straight onto heaven. After my funeral of course. I want to see you all cry."

"That's enough. We have a ghost situation." Line said.

"What kind of situation? They're dead," said Britta, "It's pretty much the same scenario."

"He's got color, and lost his memory, like those whose spirits disconnect when they are dying," said Line.

"I see," said Britta, "And where is he?"

"Right here," said Even.

"That's strange. Usually those spirits can't roam far from where they're dying. How long has he been there?"

"About a month," said Even.

There was silence on the other side of the phone.

"Mamma?" said Line.

"That's impossible," said Britta.

"But that's what we're dealing with," said Line.

"Those spirits don't exist for more than a few hours at most before they become regular ghosts," said Britta. "Whoever this boy is, he's dying very slowly."

 

"In the car girls," Even said, an hour later as they were leaving, "Now."

"No!" Screamed Maine, "I wanna stay with aunt Maja and play!"

"We have to buy you new shoes. Your old ones are too small."

"No shoes. No shoes. No shoes!" She yelled as she clung onto the stairs, Even trying to pull her away.

Maja leaned down to look the girl in the eye, "Honey, you have to go now. I promise that we can play together soon, okay? But you can't play unless you get shoes."

Maine sniffed but released her grip from the stairs. Even carried her out to the car, and Maja followed, carrying Aimee. Anniken was already sitting in her seat. '

"Thanks for the help," Even said to his sister.

"I'm happy to help them, they're really great, you know," Maya said, "Mamma's always nagging me. It's nice to have a break without having to leave the house."

"If it makes you feel better, she wasn't very happy with me either," said Even, "Said I don't come to visit enough."

"Oh please, everything you do is perfect in her eyes," said Maja. "I'm here all the time, and all she talks about is you. If I left, I doubt she'd care if I visited."

"Oh come on," Even said, strapping the kids into their car seats, "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" She asked, standing back with her arms crossed, "Even, in this house, you're either gifted, or you're nothing at all."

Before Even could reply, Maja had turned around and walked back into the house, and Even found himself face to face with Mort.

"What should I do now?" Mort asked.

Even didn't know if Mort meant in life or in general, or right now, but Even decided to answer with his immediate plans. "Um, I'm going to the shoe store. You can go home if you want."

 

Mort followed them to the shoe store, not knowing how to get home by himself and too afraid to try. 

"These ones, Pappa!" Maine yelled, running toward a bright pink pair that had wheels in the heels.

"Not those ones, little bug," said Even, "Those are too big, and they're dangerous."

"These ones!" Maine yelled and stomped her foot.

"These ones!" Aimee repeated.

Anniken groaned, "Is this what you're going to do all day? I'm bored. I'm hungry."

"You just ate," Even reminded her.

"I'm hungry again!'

Even rolled his eyes, "Then you can get new shoes too. Go look with Mort."

Anniken stomped off, with Mort gliding carefully behind her.

It was over an hour before the twins found shoes that they liked and were sensible. Maine settled on glitter purple sneakers that would light up rainbows when she stomped her feet, which happened a lot. Aimee found one with Doc McStuffins on them, since she had been in a phase for the past couple months where she would watch that TV show over and over again. Even didn't realize he hadn't seen Mort and Anniken for a while.

He heard them before he found them, somewhere deep in the store.

"Are you sure these one's aren't okay?" Mort asked.

"No!" Anniken giggled, "Stop being silly!"

"I'm not being silly, I need to know!"

"Those are scuba shoes!" she giggled, "Mort, ghosts can't swim!"

Even turned the corner to see Mort bring a hand to his chest and gasp, fake offended, "How dare you? I'll tell you I am the master of swimming. I've beaten everyone I know in a race. No one has ever been better than me."

Anniken giggled and nearly fell out of the chair that she was sitting in, "You're silly! Ghosts can't go in water."

"What are you, a ghost scientist?" Mort mocked.

"No, science is dumb," Anniken said.

"Science is not dumb, missy, I'll have you know I'm an expert scientist. Everything in the world, it is explained by science. Science can do amazing things, and is much more interesting than what you learn about in a classroom."

"Science doesn't explain you," Anniken remarked.

Mort was quiet for a second before explaining, "Maybe people just haven't figured out the science yet."

"Yeah, just like you haven't figured out how to swim!" Anniken giggled.

"Anniken, hold on here, I believe we've figured out Mort's identity," said Even, walking towards the two of them, "I believe we're talking to the ghost of Michael Phelps."

Anniken gasped and Mort bowed, "You caught me."

"Did you find shoes?" Even asked.

Anniken lifted up a pair of black shoes with the Batman logo printed on them. "Mort found them," she said, "He wanted them for himself."

"But they don't have any in my size," he said, sadly, "Or for dead people."

 

Mort crept up on Even when he was making dinner later that night.

"Anniken was right you know," Mort said, "I can't swim. I tried in the neighbors pool just now. I was lying." 

"I figured," said Even. "What did you do in the pool?"

"I jumped in and I hit the bottom."

"Ouch," Even grimaced, stirring vegetables. "Thank you, by the way, for what you did with Anniken today, it's hard for people to get through to her like that."

"I don't know why," said Mort, "Honestly, she's not a tough kid to like."

Even nodded, "About your situation, this changes a lot. Now we're looking for someone dying, instead of someone dead. I suggest we focus on trying to find your identity, and then trying to find you."

"And how do we do that?" Mort asked.

"No idea," said Even, "We can't even take a picture of you, no one knows what you look like."

Anniken popped up on the table behind them, "You can draw him Pappa! You can draw him and we can show people!"

"That's...That's not a bad idea at all," Even said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Crystals by Of Monsters and Men


	6. Noora (Feel it Still)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated in a while, but this should explain where I've been: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaGiHugrDBA

Even did not know what would possess someone to get married on new years eve.

He knew it couldn't be Noora's idea, to get married on New Years Eve, timing the vows so that "I do" came right as the clocked in midnight for the New Year, and it couldn't be her mundane fiance's idea either, so it must be her mother. His aunt, his father's sister, was surely behind this, Lykke always had a flair for the dramatic, a flair that was not shared by her daughter.

"You have to bring the kids!" His aunt had called him on the phone months ago when he had only RSVP'd for himself.  
"A wedding that doesn't even start until 23? I have toddlers, auntie."  
"The entire family has to be there, how would your cousin feel if only your kids weren't there? Even Bech Næsheim, she'll only be getting married the once!"  
Auntie didn't know that, but Even kept his mouth shut. Noora also wouldn't care if the kids were there or not, but he kept his mouth shut about that too.  
So he begrudgingly agreed to take his children, and prayed to every deity that the night wouldn't end up in a disaster, and that no one would have a meltdown in the middle of the church.

"You can come too, if you want," Even said, dressing the girls on the evening of the wedding. "We likely won't be staying for the reception. The girls won't make it."

"I wanna stay!" Maine stomped around. "I want cake!"

"Want cake!" Aimee repeated.

"I don't know if that's the best," Mort said, "I'm always with you guys. You deserve some family time alone."

"I feel less alone when you're here," said Even, who was trying to brush away the tangles in Aimee's hair.

"You're never alone."

"I know. But I still feel it."

"Mort should come," said Anniken, bounding down the stairs, "You're so boring, Pappa."

"Besides the insult," Even said, "Anniken is right. You should come. I like you there. Anniken likes you there."

"Mort come!" Maine shouted from the kitchen. 

"Neither of you can even see him," Even said, "Why do you care?"

"You yell at them less when Mort is there," Vilde said from the other room.

"That's not true," said Even.

"Yes," said Maine.

"Yes Mort should come," came Vilde's voice. "Whenever he's here, he puts some dreadful show on the television, and I can't stand it."

"Narcos isn't dreadful," said Mort, "I've come to like it."

"Television is supposed to be pleasant," said Vilde.

"Television is supposed to be at least entertaining," said Mort, "All she watches is the same episodes of American reality television over and over again, all of them the same."

"The Kardashians are entertaining."

"So you'll come?" Even asked, now trying to smooth out Anniken's wedding outfit. The only outfit he had managed to get her in was a thin black long sweater, far too little for the cold weather, grey wool leggings that he had to bribe her ice cream for dinner to wear, and grey boots that went up to her knees. He'd try to force her into a coat when they'd leave.

"Maybe," said Mort.

"Oh just come," Anniken rolled her eyes, "You don't do anything when you're here. Sometimes you just stare at the food sadly, not doing anything."

"I still have the human instinct to eat, and I can't," said Mort.

"That never goes away," Vilde's voice drifted in from the kitchen again.

"And then you make me do my homework," Anniken pouted.

"That's not a bad thing," her father's voice reminded.

"It's boring! He thinks he's so smart."

"I am so smart," said Mort.

Anniken rolled her eyes again, "I don't need another dumb teacher. I already have one."

"What did we say about calling your teacher names?" Even reminded.

"I don't remember," Anniken ran away from her father's arms, upstairs, "And I wanna stay at the party tonight! I wanna eat cake!"

"Cake!" Maine shouted.

"Cake!" Aimee repeated.

"We can eat cake tomorrow," Even promised.

"I want cake now!" Maine ran back into the room, running through

"Cake now!"

"Cake now!"

"Cake now!"

"This, this is officially the worst wedding that I have ever been to, and it hasn't even started yet. And I had to go to my uncle Gunnar's wedding that was on a cruise ship. I was ten years old and threw up seven times."

"I don't know if I've ever been to a wedding," said Mort.

"If I could, I'd have you take all three of them while I stay here and go to sleep," Even leaned back against the wall. "I'd tell my aunt that I'm very sorry, but I'm just so sick, I couldn't help it. The flu, a terrible flu."

"Mhm," said Mort.

"I couldn't possibly leave the house, I'd get everyone at the party sick. Sick as dogs. I'd ruin the entire wedding. My aunt surely couldn't blame me for that. But she shouldn't worry about the kids, no, the kids will be there. I'll have my resident ghost take them."

"I'd do it," said Mort.

"Because you're the greatest," Even smiled up at the ghost, who was standing in front of him. "But that is not what's meant to be. I'm meant to suffer. And I'll probably get dragged into the reception, no matter what I say, but don't let the girls hear that. I can't let them think I'm a pushover."

"They already know that they can get whatever they want from you," Mort laughs.

"Maybe. It was easier when it was the two of us," Even sighs, "It was easier when I wasn't the only parent."

"Of course it'd be easier," Mort said, walking over to the kitchen, "But it's better this way."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it would be a lie. And I'll come, by the way, Even. Just tell me when you're leaving."

"I'd knew you come," said Even, standing up.

"How?"

"Because you're the greatest."

\---

The divorce papers came two months after Sonja left.

Sonja had sent a short letter with them, stating that she'd only bother getting a lawyer if he wanted one.

Full custody, all of their possessions, all she wanted was her own earnings that were still in their back account.

He couldn't ask for anything more, other than for her to come home. Other for there to be no divorce, no reason for just one of them to have full custody.

"It should be both of us," he kept muttering around the house, "It should be both of us."

But it wouldn't be. And he couldn't wave a magic wand and fix it all. 

Leave him, fine. He deserved it, he lied for years, lied about their own children, what could happen to them, and he lied about who he was. But the kids, they hadn't done anything, anything wrong. All they did was exist.

The kids had been asking about Sonja from the moment she left, wondering where their Mamma had gone. He had been hoping, against everything, that she would come back. If not to him to Oslo, just so that she could keep being their Mamma. But this, this would be the end.

Sonja didn't leave a number to call. He had tried her old number, but it had been disconnected.

Before he signed those papers, he had to try at least one more time. Not knowing where Sonja was, the letter and papers had come from a firm, he looked up her parents address in Berlin.

'''To Sonja Salhberg, from the father of her children.

Sonja, please consider coming home to Oslo. 

Anniken, Maine and Aimee miss you very much. They ask me every day when you are going to come home, I don't know what to say. How can I tell them that their mother has left?

Please, if you don't want to see me again, that is fine. Just do not leave the children. I don't want full custody, Sonja, you can take half, or at least partial, or at least a little custody. I know I have made many mistakes, and if you hate me, I deserve it. I'm sorry. But the children have done nothing wrong, and they deserve to have their mother. Please, consider the custody.

Please reconsider, Even.'''

 

There was no response for a month. And then two months. And then the divorce papers were sent again, this time without a note.

And that was it.

 

Aimee was still a year and a half, and hadn't said her first word. Maine, next to her, was chatting away endlessly, talking in random sentences with words interjected in between. Every once in a while, Aimee would mimic part of a word or a sound, but hadn't even been able to say Pappa, or even a Pa. Even when she did manage to start speaking, by the time she was nearly two, she could only say words she had heard Maine say first.

Anniken, at this age four and a half, was far more interested in books and reading than her younger sisters. Her preschool teachers and found her progress remarkable for her age, besides her disinterest in the other students.

Even didn't know how to talk to them about anything, nevertheless this. 

Even though Aimee couldn't talk, Even could tell that she missed her mother. She'd walk around the house aimlessly, sometimes winding up in their mother's favorite chair, the flowered one near the front window, just sitting there for hours. He'd find Aimee crying in her high chair, reaching out for someone who wasn't there. Even didn't know if she'd understand when he'd tell her that her mother wasn't coming back, she might not knowing what was happening at all.

"Girls, I have something important to talk about."

Maine spouted out random words, Aimee looked up at the ceiling blankly, and Anniken kept reading her picture book, not appearing to hear anything that her father had just said.

"It's very important. Anniken, could you please put your book down."

Anniken begrudgingly put down her book. Maine just shouted, "No talk, Pappa!"

Even didn't know where to start, he didn't know the best way to tell them, how he could even put it in a way that they would understand, nevertheless not be traumatized by. 

"Your mother has been gone for a long time," is how he chose to go.

Anniken nodded. Maine shouted "Mamma," and Aimee didn't say anything at all.

"Your mother will not be coming back to live with us," he just said. 

All three of the girls looked at him, not saying anything for a long time.

"Why?" is all Maine said.

"Is she dead?" said Anniken.

"No," said Even.

"Is she in heaven?" asked Anniken.

"Then why doesn't she live here?" She asked, eyes wide.

"She has decided she wants to live somewhere else."

"Can we go with her?" Anniken asked.

"Where?" Maine asked.

"We can't go with her. And..." Even didn't even know where she was.

"Germany," he said, even though he wasn't exactly sure that's where she was. 

"We go Germy?" Maine asked.

"No, we can't go see her."

"Is she dead? Are you lying Pappa? You said no lying," Anniken stood up on the couch.

"I'm not lying, she just needs to go be alone. And I know it's sad. And I know you miss her, but I can't change this."

"Why?" Maine asked, starting to cry.

"Does she not love us anymore?" Anniken asked, "Did I do something wrong? I'll clean my room. I promise."

"It's not your fault," Even said, "It's just a change."

"But when do we see her again?" Anniken asked.

"I don't know," said Even, "But for now, we have to remember the people that we have in our lives, all of the people that love you."

"Nobody," said Anniken.

"Grandma, grandpa, Maja, all of your relatives, and me."

"If I didn't see ghosts, Mamma would come back." Anniken jumped off the couch and ran upstairs. 

\----

 

As it happened, the only seats available by the time Even got to the church were next to some of Noora's most annoying relatives from her father's side.

He knew their names were Ingrid and Sara, Noora's cousins, and he avoided them when he could after he heard them whispering about his children's 'unfortunate' disposition at a family party. 

"If any of you whine, no cake," said Even.

Maine groaned, now being blocked from her favorite activity. 

Mort was walking around the church, looking at people's faces, trying to see somebody that he recognized. Even had gotten him into the habit of trying to look at people whenever they were out in public, trying to see if someone could jog his memory. If Mort had materialized in Oslo and spoke Norwegian, he likely had at least some connection here. 

"Even, I've been meaning to talk to you, but you don't come much to the Sætre's parties anymore," she said, "You know, with the young ones," her voice tinged with slight poison on the last two words. "Anyway, I heard about this contest that you would be excellent for."

"I heard about it," said Sara, and "I told Ingrid-"

"Yeah, I suppose that's true. Anyway, I decided to tell you, that there's this contest I heard about, I figured you'd have to abandon that job of yours someday, if Anniken ever wants a future-"

"Excuse me?" Even protested.

"Oh you know, I know how money is for you."

"That's really none of your business."

"My family's business is my business, honey," Ingrid said. She was hardly family, they were related vaguely through marriage, and he never cared for her, not even when they were children.

"Pappa, I need to go potty," Anniken tugged on his shirt.

The wedding was supposed to begin several minutes ago, but there had been no sign of beginning so far. 

"One moment, Ingrid, I need to help my daughter find the bathroom."

"It's behind those doors," Sara pointed behind the altar, "She can find it herself."

Anniken hopped off her chair and trotted off toward the bathroom, not realizing that she had left her father trapped.

"Anyway," said Ingrid, "There's this wonderful drawing contst, and you've always been so talented, I saw your drawings during your exhibition during your senior year of Bakka, and I thought, wouldn't that be perfect for Even? There have been signs all over the city-"

"All over," said Sara, "I saw them first. The prize money-"

"The prize money is enormous. Certainly satisfactory. And all of the finalists get exhibited at an art show, I figured, a way for my cousin-"

"You're not my cousin."

"To get himself out there! Who knows who could see it."

Who knows who could see it.

Anyone, anyone could see it.

"That, that actually sounds interesting," Even said slowly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Ingrid."

"And Sara," said Sara.

"Why can't you believe that?"

All thoughts were interrupted when a hurricane named Lykke Sætre swept past them.

"Have any of you seen Noora?" she asked. Her hair, which had obviously at one point been put up in a high bun, was now hanging on the side of her head. 

"No, why?" asked Even.

"Oh, no reason," she lied, rushing over to another group of people.

"She's obviously stepped out on him, I could see it a mile away," Ingrid chipped, "She's always had such commitment issues, I was shocked when she said she was getting married."

"I wonder if William needs some comfort," said Sara, "The poor boy, too blinded in love I'd imagine." She stood up, "I'll go see if he needs anything."

"I'll come as well," Ingrid said, "I'd imagine, he'd need support, walked out on in his own wedding."

"We don't know that's what happened." Even said.

Ingrid rolled her eyes, "Open your eyes, Even. No one in this family knows how a proper marriage works."

As the girls walked away, both of the twins started tugging on his shirt.

"Pappa, potty," Maine said.

"Potty," Aimee repeated. Aimee was still in diapers, but liked to follow her sister everywhere. 

Even groaned and lead them to the bathroom that Anniken had disappeared into earlier. "It's girls only," he said, "I'll have to take you to the mens, but I'm not sure where that is."

"No, this one!" Maine ran in on her own, and Even followed her quickly, ready to apologize to any women he may say, but instead he found a completely different scene.

"Pappa," said Anniken as Even ran in, "This is the girl's room."

But besides Anniken, the only woman in the restroom was his cousin Noora, her makeup smeared across her face, her hair down, and her dress rumpled. She was sitting on the floor, with Anniken hugging her.

"I heard her crying in the closet," she pointed. "I thought she was a ghost."

"A ghost?" Noora asked.

"She has a wild imagination," Even said. Even's father had never mentioned his wife's abilities to his side of the family, they likely wouldn't believe a word of it.

"She's very sad," said Anniken.

"Potty!" yelled Maine, running toward the toilet, "Pappa, help up!"

Noora got up and locked the bathroom door while Even helped Maine on the toilet, "Your mother's been crazy looking for you," he said. 

"Yeah and I've been crazy avoiding everybody for an hour. I have no idea what to do."

Even left Maine on the toilet and went to sit next to his cousin, "What happened? I thought you wanted to get married. Your mother couldn't stop talking about it."

"I did, or I thought I did," she said, wiping away the mascara under her eyes, "Or maybe I just thought it was the right thing to do at this point in my life, in my relationship. I knew I needed change, and I thought what I wanted was marriage." She laid back on the ground, "But I'm thinking I was just completely wrong. Everything was going great today, until someone called me Noora Magnusson and I came in here to vomit. And then I hid in the closet to plot my escape, or at least calm down. But now I believe I've calmed down, and I need to get out of here.

She pulled the collar of her white dress, "This is the most uncomfortable thing I have worn in my life. My engagement ring costs thirty pounds, I want to rip it off thirty times a day. William wants us to move to London, the most boring city in the world, and think I'd rather die than be called Noora Magnusson."

"Well, you don't have to call yourself that," Even said.

"It's not the name, it's the idea of the name," she said, "I should have ended it so long ago, I just thought it was right."

"Well, at least you figured it out before you got married." 

Noora smiled and leaned into him, "Now what am I supposed to do? My poor mother will literally die. I can't face her. I can't walk out there and tell them that this just isn't happening. What is William thinking?" 

"Pappa, I'm done!" Maine shouted, followed by the sound of the toilet flushing.

"From what I know of William, I think he'll be fine," Even said, thinking of Ingrid and Sara. "And if I'm right- Oh Maine Isabel Bech Næsheim, I know you're not trying to leave without washing your hands."

Maine squinted her eyes and reached up to the lowest sink.

"Anyway," said Even, "I think we just need to get you out of here. You can talk to William later, when you've collected yourself. And you can talk to your mother later, when she's collected herself."

Noora smiled, "But how am I supposed to get out of here?"

 

Five minutes later, Even was pushing his cousin through the bathroom window. She'd wait in their car until Even managed to escape. He then took the girls out through the regular door, trying to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Even, have you seen-" His aunt asked.

"No, no I haven't."

"William won't leave his room," said Ingrid, "He's so angry. And honestly? I don't blame him. I mean if this happened to me-"

Even grabbed his children and pushed all of them, trying to find Mort.

"I see him!" Anniken whispered, pointing toward where Mort was standing toward the entrance to the church.

"Mort," said Even as they got closer, "There's been a change of plans, we need to go, right now. I'll explain later. But we have to-"

"Even," said Mort, "I see someone."

"Yeah, there's a lot of people here-"

"Yeah, but I think I know them."

Even stopped in his tracks, "What?"

Mort pointed to a girl who was sitting on William's family's side, wearing a black hijab and a simple dark green dress. She seemed disinterested, playing on her phone.

"How do you know her?" Even asked.

"I don't know, but when I see her, I get a feeling I haven't had before. I think, I think I know her somehow."

Even didn't know who the girl was, he didn't think William had any Muslim relatives, so she must know him in some other way. 

"Even," said Mort, "We need to talk to her."

"We need to leave right now," said Even, "We can find her later."

"What if we can't?"

"Noora probably knows who she is."

"Even, this is the first person who might know something of who I am, I can't just leave her!" Mort said.

"Yes, but we can come back to this girl, and I'm sorry that this is happening right now, but I have a runaway bride in my car."

"A what?"

"There's a lot going on," Even said. "I'm sorry, okay? But we need to go."

"I'm not going," Mort said.

"What?"

"I need to see her. I know where you live Even, I can find you later."

People were starting to get more frantic, and Noora's mother was basically having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the altar. Even didn't have time to argue.

He ran out with the children, leaving Mort in the church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Feel it Still by Portugal the Man, which was way less popular when I planned this, but whatever.


End file.
